Undone: The Sweater Story
by felleny
Summary: Written for the st xi kink meme. Scotty walks in on Gaila getting ready for the day. In nothing but his favorite sweater. Scotty/Gaila


Scotty lift a hand to his face, covering his eyes as he slowly blinked them open. While he'd been off the god forsaken rock for nearly a year now, he still half-expected to open his eyes in the morning only to be blinded by the light bouncing off of Delta Vega's snowy peaks. While the room wasn't burn-your-fucking-irises bright, there iwas/i a light peeking through his fingers, which was far more than he usually had upon waking up. Gaila always complained he kept his room too dark.

His eyes widened behind his hands as the fog of sleep cleared his head, jump starting his memories. Gaila had stayed the night last night. While it certainly wasn't their first night sharing a bed together, it was the first night where she stayed, her head resting upon Scotty's chest and her legs tangled amongst his. It was the best damned night of sleep he'd had in... Well, ever, really.

Smiling to himself, he dropped his hands, turning his head to wish her a good morning, only to find an empty, albeit warm spot beside him. Quirking his brows together, Scotty pushed himself up, his neck creaking loudly as he whipped his head around to find her.

"Mother of pearl," he hissed through his teeth, reaching up to rub at the kink in his neck.

Scotty glanced around the room once more, much slower than before, trying to figure out where Gaila had scampered off to. It was her soft humming, notes rising and falling beneath steady flow of ireal/i water that drew his attention to the bathroom. He chuckled to himself as he slid out of bed, reminded briefly of the sirens that lured sailors to their deaths. He was sure she could do that to him, if she really wanted to and Scotty would have let her.

He shivered slightly as the chilled air of the room hit his bare chest. Scotty kept the temperature controls programmed to mimic the seasonal changes of Starfleet headquarters, where it was mid-autumn at that point. If anyone were to ask, he would say it made the most sense, as it was a climate the crew was most familiar with. But, really, he just wanted to wear his favorite jumper once in a while.

It wasn't anything special, just a soft cotton v-neck in a speckled grey color. The cuffs were stretched from being pushed up his arms, a couple pulls and holes throughout the chest. It hardly kept him warm, to be entirely honest, but it was comfortable.

And it was currently missing.

Scotty tilt his head to the side, staring at the empty back of his chair, where he was Spock-on positive he'd left it the night before. He ambled around his room, toeing at piles of his and Gaila's clothing, searching for the rogue garment.

Nothing. Nowhere.

"The hell'd you go?" He grumbled, shaking his head in disgruntled disbelief as he tugged his back-up - a plain, black t-shirt - over his head.

He took the few, long strides to the bathroom and froze at the door.

Gaila stood in front of the sink, her fiery hair tugged into a messy bun, soft tendrils spilling against the back of her neck. She rubbed her fingertips over her face, massaging a white cream across her forehead and high cheeks.

And draped over her body was his jumper. It hit high on her thighs, skimming the curve of her hips just enough to show her shape. The too-big collar lay draped over one shoulder, exposing the smooth line of her collarbone, dotted with faint freckles. As Gaila bent over the sink to rinse her face, the sweater moved with her, revealing just the slightest bit of her bare buttocks.

Sweet, transwarping iJesus/i, that's hot.

"Thank you, Monty, " Gaila gave a soft giggle, straightening her body once more and glancing over at him.

Scotty's eyes widened a bit and red crept over his cheeks. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Uh, yeah, just a bit," she smirked, motioning to the towel on the bar beside him.

He nodded quickly, picking it up and handing it to her. "Well. I'm not going to apologize. But, uh, why're you wearing that?"

Gaila pat her damp face lightly, her brows knitting together. "What do you mean?"

Scotty flicked his finger up and down the length of her body, looking more like a nervous tick than an actual gesture. She looked down at her body, at the pilled charcoal hugging her body and she smiled. "It's yours."

"Yes, I'm aware," he gave a quirky smile, pushing himself from the doorframe to sit on the toilet seat. "Which, y'know, is why I'm wondering why iyou're/i wearing it. Last I remember, you had a pretty little pink number on."

He smirked to himself, briefly remembering the soft silk beneath his fingers as he slid it off her body the night before.

Gaila gave a small shrug of her shoulders, the jumper sliding just a bit farther down her bicep, showing the delicate curve of her breast at its side. "It smells like you."

"Like grease and body odor?" Scotty teased, shaking his head a little.

She shook her own head as well, carefully folding his towel and resting it on the sink. "No. Like iyou/i you. iYour/i smell. It's…" Gaila gave a soft gasp of a laugh, her smile soft. "Electrifying."

She tugged the sleeves down, the cuffs spilling over her hands so just the slim tips poked through. Balling her hands into fists, Gaila brought them to her face, burying her nose in the soft fabric. Her eyes slid shut, a look of blissful pleasure washing over her. It was one of the most beautiful faces Scotty had ever seen on her.

"It seeps into me, mixes with my own scent," she said softly, her words muffled by his jumper. "I can feel it in my pores, in every synapse. You and I, together all day…"

Gaila pulled her head from her fists, looking Scotty directly in the eyes. He watched her arms wrap around her body, her one curling against her side to tug at the collar, her other hand picking at the thinning elbow. She shift ever so slightly from one foot to the other, her toes curling and stretching against the tile floor. He knew Gaila well, her body language ingrained in his memory like a well-loved novel. He knew the secrets behind every fine line, the message in every intricate detail.

As he watched his lady love squirm before him, a knowing smile crept to Scotty's face.

"It turns you on a bit, doesn't it?"

Her granny apple cheeks darkened slightly and he heart sped in his chest. She totally got off on it.

"Orions are an olfactory driven species," Gaila gave a small shrug, chewing on the corner of her lower lip. "It's not an overbearing lust, just a pleasant buzz, really."

Scotty's lips splayed in a playful smirk, lifting a hand to crook a finger at her. She padded across the bathroom with a timid air that he was sure only he had seen before, her covered hands resting on his sturdy shoulders. His hands found their way to her thighs, brushing the fabric up and down as he thumbed at the smooth skin.

He smiled at Gaila's soft shiver, marveling in the touch of gooseflesh under his calloused fingers. Leaning his head in, Scotty pressed a soft kiss just above the slope of her breast, his hand sliding up his jumper to cup her naked bottom.

"Y'know, we're not scheduled for another two hours," he whispered, nipping playfully at her chest. "I suggest we head back in there and have a little fun with this. What do you think, love?"

Her lips, hot and needy against his, were all the answer he needed.


End file.
